


The Moth and The Butterfly

by GhostInABox



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Aromantic Asexual Christine Canigula, Asexual Christine Canigula, Bisexual Male Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Michael Mell, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm trying to tag as much shit as I can ahhhhh, Jake Dillinger is a Bean, Lesbian Character, Michael deserves the fucking world, Michael is shorter than Jeremy, Multi, Only by like an inch or two though, Pansexual Character, Past Relationship(s), Rich Goranski's Lisp, Strangers to Friends, Theatre, you can fight me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-04-14 09:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14132886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostInABox/pseuds/GhostInABox
Summary: Jeremiah Heere is popular. He's a flirt, a party goer, and everyone knows his name. He's at the top of the social pyramid. Of course he's the guy that Micheal Mell's gay ass would be pining over ever since elementary school. Micheal is alone except for his best friend, Richard Goranski. He keeps mostly to himself and doesn't like most people. Jeremiah is on top of the world. He has good friends and has a wonderful social life filled with every high school movie cliche you could think of.Both of them are vastly different, but for some reason...It feels like it's just... right.((This is cancelled for further notice.))





	1. Chapter 1: Waking Up the Michael Way

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that takes place in a world where Jeremy and Micheal never became friends. There's no squips involved either, except maybe a casual mention in the future. This fic is also fueled solely on my own teenage angst and pining, so more that likely I'll be updating when either of those act up. I hope you guys enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 6/10/18 (Guess who learned the right way to spell Michael's name after forever?? :D)

Michael Mell was your typical high school geek. He would play video games on the weekend with his online friends, and occasionally his best friend. But for the most part, Michael would watch YouTube videos and play games that only required one player. He was a loner. Well, not exactly. He'd like to have more friends, but not many people wanted to talk to the weird kid who always wore headphones.  
  
Michael looked at the clock that made its home on his bedside table. 7:34. He had time. He quickly grabbed his hairspray and did a few quick spritzes. Don't judge. His hair was frizzy as fuck. What was he supposed to do, not at least try to tame it and go to school with a clown afro?  
  
Michael inspected himself in the mirror. His regular dog shit brown hair, his puffy eyes that were only enhanced in their puffiness by his glasses, his random splotches of moles and freckles reminding him of eraser shaving from a drawing someone tried to erase. Well, whatever angel had attempted to fix him definitely failed him.  
  
Michael groaned, hand sliding down his face. He ignored all the little anxieties in the back of his head telling him it would be better to crawl into his bed and never come out again. Then again... He looked at his bed longingly. He rolled his eyes and turned away from his bed and went to his computer desk to grab his discarded hoodie.  
  
He smiled to himself. He remembered when his best friend got it for him for his birthday. They had both been in seventh grade at the time. When Michael first put it on it had essentially swallowed him whole. He asked his best friend what he'd been thinking him getting such a huge hoodie. His only response was that he "would grow into it." He'd been right, and Michael always wore it. It became littered with patches, pins, and tears (that had since been repaired by his incredible mother when he was little. But after a couple of years and couple rips later she showed him how to properly patch it up after a mishap.) as the years flew by.  
  
Michael loved the old thing, its red a little less vibrant after about three years of (ab)use. It was his trademark. He was the headphones and hoodie kid. That one kid that would accidentally start humming a tune in class when he was concentrating. That one kid that the popular kids liked to pick on. The easy target.  
  
Michael frowned, thinking about his lovely tormentors that awaited him at his own little personal hell. His little Michael Mell hell.  
  
Michael quickly slipped on the hoodie and grabbed his backpack from next to his bed and headed downstairs. The smells from the kitchen assaulted his senses. He could hear his siblings from the stairs. He smiled at his younger siblings as they ran past him, thankfully not running straight into his legs. He made his way into the kitchen. He saw his mother busy and going to work on preparing the type of breakfast for a family before school people only saw on tv.  
  
Sadly, Michaell considered himself far too ugly to grace the secret alien tv show that was his family. He ducked out of the kitchen quickly grabbing a pack of pop-tarts from the overstuffed cabinet.  
  
Michael stood in the doorway for a second, listening to the liveliness of his family. They were a picturesque family. Well, without him they were. He looked at his shoes and quickly made his way out of the house. He looked at his car for a second. He weighed the options.  
  
If he took his car that would mean wasting his gas and he didn't exactly have a job. But if he didn't take his car, then he would be walking home after a long day at school...  
  
'Car it is,' Michael mused to himself as he tossed his bag into the passenger seat and clicked his seatbelt into place. He quickly started on his way to the school, only going a little over the speed limit. Michael pushed the button that turned on his crappy, little radio system that was due to explode any day now. He could make out what was more than likely a generic pop artist come through the static-filled speakers. He absent-mindedly started humming along.  
  
The thing about Michael, he loved a good melody. He would hum along to songs that he didn't know, trying to expect the beat and the flow of the song. He would listen to the lyrics and slowly start singing the chorus if he liked the song. And if he heard a song twice, he would almost always have it down.  
  
It annoyed his father to no end. His father complained that he shouldn't listen to music so much. That if he put as much effort into memorizing schoolwork as he did lyrics, he'd be a straight-A student. Michael scoffed at the notion. It wasn't like he didn't try to do well in school. Michael just couldn't remember it. If he could tell his brain to focus less on music and video games he would.  
  
Michael just wasn't wired like that. He looked for patterns. Michael looked for a beat. He didn't look for the ways that early American slave owners and racists helped shape America in his everyday life.  
  
Micheal pulled up to the school parking lot. He sat in his car, contemplating his life and whether it would be worth it to get out of his car today. His bones were screaming no. His brain was screaming no. His heart...  
  
He sat up in his car, and he looked at the front entrance, and a goofy smile overtook his face. At the front of the school were his constant bullies and tormentors, but among them was a cardigan-wearing angel. Jeremiah Heere.  
  
Micheal let out a small love-sick sigh as he stared at Jeremiah from his car. He was a pretty popular kid. And a well-known flirt, but he was never mean to people who didn't deserve it. He had a gentle air about him, one that made him seem like the kind of person who you could hug when you were having a bad day.  
  
Micheal groaned. He was so gay for this boy. He'd been gay for him for years now. But tragically, Jeremiah was a heterosexual. And way out of his league. With his beautiful side swept bangs that looked like hot chocolate. His blue eyes that resembled an almost cloudy day before the sun came out to chase the clouds away. And a smile that could blind someone, it was so bright. He was so out of Micheal's league.  
  
Micheal stared at him and his friends. Jake Dillinger and Jenna Roland were the only ones who were with him at the moment, causing Micheal's little fantasy to fade before his eyes.  
  
Jake was a good guy. He seemed pretty charming and likable, but he had hated Micheal for whatever reason since middle school. Jake was like a lovable golden retriever to anyone else that looked his way. He just really hated Micheal's guts for some reason. Micheal didn't really mind that much; he returned the feeling.  
  
And then there was Jenna. She was terrifying, maybe more so than Jake. She had all the power over a person's reputation with her Twitter page. If she smack talked someone, you'd better believe that kid's life was going to shit. But if you got her to support you, then you were good as golden. She was like a cruel god.  
  
Micheal stared at Jeremiah as he laughed and stood there with some of the most terrifying people he knew. And he seemed so relaxed. How? They're his friends, of course. Micheal knew that. But he still didn't like thinking about it very much.  
  
He wished that Jeremiah could just be an ordinary person like him. But, nope! Instead, he was near the very top of the social hierarchy. Whereas Micheal was near the bottom of it all. Not outright hated, but not really liked either.  
  
Michael was just... _there_. Not exactly dull, but not really eye-catching either. He was like a background character in his own life's story. Micheal rolled his eyes at his own train of thought.  
  
 _'Tone it down, Mister My Chemical Angst,'_ He hopped out of his car. He quickly pulled out his phone and plugged in his headphones, which never really left their designated place on his neck except for moving them over his ears.  
  
He opened up Spotify, the only thing he could realistically expect to date for the rest of his high school experience. He pulled up his personal playlist. A jumbled humdrum of random things that caught his attention. Such songs include anything Bob Marley, some acoustic shit, some good alternative stuff, and some shitposting because he was weak.  
  
He hit shuffle play, and a catchy upbeat song began filling his ears. A small smile tugged at his lips as he walked towards the building. Welp, time to try to survive.


	2. Chapter 2: The Insanely Cool Richard Goranski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing another wonderful supporting character in the life of Michael Mell, Rich!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *To the tune of Rich set a fire* Rich is a teenager with far less trauma!! WHooOOOAaaaa!!
> 
> Edited: 6/10/18

Ah, high school. A nightmare, dipped into a giant vat of trauma, sprinkled with some stress, then drizzle on some depression and anxiety. Yep. What a great way to spend the few years of your life where you don't have many responsibilities and the crushing weight of taxes and debt and sometimes the lovely time that is a failing marriage.  
  
Well, it might show people a few crucial things on the occasional blue moon. Such things like, how to deal with having your heart ripped out, having people stab you in the back, and how to feel like people are always going to judge you based off of your GPA and the number on a scale. What other things would they teach you, silly?  
  
Michaell weaved around people in the halls. He both thanked and cursed whatever creator and/or aliens made him shorter than the average human male. He wasn't super short, coming in at about 5' 7", but still enough to be a few inches than most of the guys around him. Plus side of being short, people didn't notice him as often. Downside, people didn't notice him, and he was trampled almost on a near-daily basis. Was being not noticed really worth not being noticed? The repetitive question of the day.  
  
Well, it didn't matter either way. Unless Michael wanted to wear heels to school (which despite what the homophobic assholes in school said, he didn't), he couldn't really change his height. He quickly slid through the gaps of people in the halls with ease, only occasionally tripping on his own and other people's feet.  
  
He nearly gasped in relief when he escaped the flow of other brain-dead students to get to his locker. Michael noted with a small nod that only one penis had been drawn on his locker. Not bad. Typically there were at least two. Maybe people were growing up around here.  
  
Michael quickly opened up his locker and grabbed his history textbook. He bit his lip and did his best not to groan. Micheal hated his first period of the day. He had Mrs. Johnson.  
  
Mrs. Johnson was a super short, cranky, elderly woman with a glass eye that never quite looked at the right direction. If Michael had been told that she had been alive and fighting in the second world war, he would not have been shocked. It always was the spiteful who somehow survived the longest.  
  
Michael was crouched getting his book when a loud knock on the locker above him made him jump. He let out a small yelp and fell on his ass, still clutching his history book. Above him, Richard Goranski was laughing his ass off at his reaction.  
  
Michael rolled his eyes at the shorter teen's antics. If it had been anyone else, he might have been a little-pissed off. But this was Rich. He'd been Michael's best friend since middle school.  
  
Rich smiled broadly at him, pushing his own, noticeably less bulky and more in style pair of glasses up his nose from staring down at Michael. His light brown hair was in its usual untamable-but-in-a-cool-way fashion. He wore a plaid long sleeve shirt over a generic "funny" hot topic shirt. His camouflage pants that had knees that were about to give out from overuse nearly covered his shoes.  
  
Rich had a friendly air about him, but in a "This guy is an asshole, but he's a funny asshole, so it's chill" kinda way. His wardrobe consisted of mostly hand-me-downs and goodwill purchases, but he made it work with the occasional borrowed piece of clothing from Michael. Used to it would be Michael defending the small boy, but in the past few years, he had taken to defending himself when the time came.  
  
But despite that, he was still relatively well liked. He wasn't popular, but popular people didn't hate him. He described himself as a court jester to the popular kids. But a court jester that was secretly plotting one of the knight's demise, planning on killing them and slowly placing himself in their former position of power. The truest form of democracy.  
  
"Wow, _hilarious_ ," Michael chuckled dryly as he stood back up. He stood a good couple of inches above Rich, one of the few things that Michael could tease him about. But _only_ Michael. If anyone else tried that kind of shit, a fight would break out in the time that it took Michael to open his mouth and try and warn the poor fool.  
  
"I mean," Rich said with a smirk on his lips as he readjusted his backpack. He had a slight lisp, but it wasn't terribly noticeable. He had worked really hard to fix it, and it had paid off considerably since Michael first met him. "I thought it was pretty hilarious."  
  
"Yeah, I know you found it funny. But what about me, your _poor_ and _sensitive_ best friend, man? Do you think _I_ had fun being bullied by my nearest and dearest friend?" Michael said as he dramatically fell into Rich's arms. Rich made a sound of surprise as he tried not to drop the Filipino boy. Michael smirked as Rich's knees began to buckle. Rich had a lot of pride; it made it really to get him to do stupid shit like this.  
  
Michael laughed and smirked at Rich, who was still trying to hold him. Rich's face was getting red from the struggle.  
  
"You're a dick!" Rich seethed breathlessly as he began to lose his grip on Michael.  
  
"You know it, Richard, my boy," Michael chuckled as he stood up suddenly. Rich breathed out a sigh of relief leaning against Michael, still panting slightly.  
  
"You are... a _massive_... dick!"  
  
"I think you mean _have_ , Richard."  
  
"Oh, _fuck off!"_


	3. Chapter 3: Flashback (To Mere Moments Ago)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we see a wild Popular Twink Bird. He dawns his bisexual cardigan to tend to his self caused pain, a hang over.

It was a Monday. That should mean for most people going to school after a mostly uneventful weekend. You might have seen some friends. You probably just stayed in and watched Netflix, though.  
  
That did not apply if you were Jeremiah Heere.  
  
Jeremy looked like normal to those who didn't know him. He was walking with practiced confidence, and head held high. To those who did know him however he looked visibly like a wreck. Jeremy was swaddled in a cardigan he had for years (something he should have thrown away a long while ago, but couldn't find to heart do so. It was like a comfort blanket to him.), and his expression wasn't as carefree as it usually was. Jake and Jenna looked up and grinned at Jeremy.  
  
"Ah, the walk of shame once again, huh?" Jake laughed softly causing Jeremy to swat at his head with a bemused expression. Jake skillfully avoided the strike, laughing softly when Jeremy stumbled a little bit. "Jesus, you're real fucking out of it, huh Jeremiah?"  
  
Jeremy just pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. He looked up and saw Jenna frowning at him. Jeremy quirked an eyebrow in her direction. He was in no state of mind to deal with her subtle hinting. "Yes, Jenna?"  
  
"Riley Pearson? _Really?"_ She said like she was almost disappointed in his choice of hookup. Jeremy just frowned at her and rolled his eyes. He wasn't exactly a fuck boy, seeing as he never tried to start anything serious with girls, but he was known as an easy hookup.  
  
He merely shrugged and gave Jenna something that was almost a smirk, only it didn't seem happy. "She was offering, and I was buzzed. It all worked out, didn't it?"  
  
Jenna rolled her eyes and went back to typing away on her phone. Sometimes it felt the phone wasn't just something she held, but an actual extension of her body. Jake, however, gave him a smirk and held his hand out for a high five. Jeremy weakly returned the high five, quickly falling silent as he let Jake lead a conversation about his own weekend. He nodded every once in a while to give the appearance that Jake had his attention, but in all actuality, Jeremy was somewhere deep in his thoughts.  
  
Jeremy had no clue as to how he was popular. He guessed it was because he was a good actor. Jeremy was able to step into any role easily. So he had two personas; He had himself, Jeremy, and his popular persona, Jeremiah.  
  
Jeremy enjoyed things considered "geeky" by his friends, Jeremiah would make fun of it all along with them. Jeremy loved playing video games, Jeremiah would never be caught dead playing most of the games he played. Jeremy had a stutter and hated crowds, Jeremiah could keep his composure and had no trouble being in a group.  
  
Jeremy had quickly learned that people liked him more when he acted confident and didn't choose what he, so he put on the persona of Jeremiah. He wasn't sure if Jeremiah was even a persona anymore or if Jeremy was. Jeremy lightly shook his head at himself. He was putting way too much thought into this.  
  
Jeremy was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Jake and Jenna laughing, making himself chuckle a little bit, a seemingly genuine smile on his lips. They say you just have to fake it til you make it. That's a lie, if you fake it til you make it you're never going to be able ever stop faking it.  
  
Jeremy pulled his phone out and grimaced slightly. "Ugh, I'd better get to class. If I'm late, I'm pretty sure that Mr. Hudson is going to _actually_ murder me."  
  
The trio began to walk into the building, chatting amongst themselves. Jeremy saw a flash of red in the parking lot as he entered the building, but hurried to keep up with Jake and Jenna.  
  
Jeremy was infinitely grateful that the hallways weren't crowded as he walked behind the other two teens. They quickly neared his, and he smiled softly.  
  
"Hey, I gotta go later guys," He said quickly, waving at his friends as they gave their equally rushed goodbyes. Jeremy stepped into the room and breathed in the scent of paper and dry erase markers. Not a necessarily good scent, but a calming and familiar scent all the same. Like the smell of your grandparent's house. Not really "good" per say, but damn if it doesn't bring back memories. 

Jeremy smiled softly as he took his seat. He just had a few hours then it was time for the part of his day where acting was actually _fun._

Only a few more hours until play try outs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really proud of this chapter, but it is the most I could crank out at the moment. I hope you guys enjoyed, though! Sorry for the long wait.


	4. This work is cancelled for further notice.

I’m sorry guys, but I can’t keep this fic going at the moment. I just don’t have the motivation for it and I feel like I’m stringing you guys along without a proper update on the fic. Maybe one day I’ll return to this fic, but for the moment it’s not possible. I love you all. Bye. 


End file.
